


Threads

by Poplitealqueen



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Episode VIII: The Last Jedi (2017)
Genre: Ficlet, Force-Sensitive Finn, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-23
Updated: 2017-12-23
Packaged: 2019-02-18 18:30:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13106031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Poplitealqueen/pseuds/Poplitealqueen
Summary: Kylo held out his hand.Finn took it.





	Threads

**Author's Note:**

> I'm currently porting as much of my writing as I can off of Tumblr and on to here, because it never hurts to have things in more than one place. This prompt answer isn't too long, but it's long enough that I thought, "Hey, why the fuck not? Onto AO3 it goes!" aaaaand here we now are.
> 
> This ficlet came about after I saw the first long TLJ trailer, but before I saw the movie (you can tell immediately, mostly because Finn is treated like an important character in thi--ah, never mind! Haha, sorry. I'll leave that salt for my blog). Anyways, here you go, folks. I hope you enjoy.
> 
> -Pop
> 
> PS: I've contemplated rewriting this to fit what happens in the movie a bit more. Hmmm. Maybe?

Finn never imagined, even for a moment, that he would be the one to defeat Phasma.

He had thought about her being defeated before, of course, but those daydreams had never put him in a position of anything other than an onlooker. He had never seen himself standing over the still form of the First Order captain, weapon tight in his hand, bloody and bruised but triumphant.

And yet, here he was, doing just that.

Finn didn’t move. He couldn’t, even as everything around him faded into flames and the sky above Canto Bight erupted in explosions and blasterfire. He could only watch Phasma, wait for her hypothermically blue eyes to twitch open and her teeth to bare; wait for her to throw herself forward and back into the fight.

She didn’t so much as breathe, and, oddly enough to Finn, he knew without checking her pulse that she never would again. He couldn’t say how he knew, but he did. Like a switch being flipped, he could suddenly feel billions upon billions of bright threads all around him, intertwining through him, and each representing something alive. If he tugged on one, he caught a glimpse of someone far away. Even Phasma had a thread, a thin tendril that broke apart when Finn pulled on it, unspooling into a darkness just beyond his periphery.

Finn followed that thread without thinking, curiously pressing forward into the darkness, until he felt it filling his pores, his mouth, his nose and eyes and ears, and with a startled shout he dragged himself back only to find that he was still where he’d been: in the middle of a battlefield, standing over Phasma’s corpse.

Other threads started to snap all around him and fall into the dark nothing, and Finn felt every single one like a blaster bolt to the chest.

Death, he realized. He was feeling death, and he didn’t know how to turn it off.

Finn staggered a step back, first Poe then Rose then Rey’s names creeping out of his mouth in a low, terrified whimper. He searched for them amid the endless mental strands, but he couldn’t find them. Were they dead? He searched for Leia, for Luke, for anything to help ground him, but he couldn’t find any of them. Were they all dead?

Finn winced when at least a hundred of the strands snapped at the same time following a particularly bright explosion high above him, tears blurring his vision and creating wet trails through the ash that had settled on his cheeks.

His efforts became desperate. He began to clutch at any strands that seemed stronger than the others, tugging at them, begging them to find him, to help, to show him what to do.

There was only one that responded. A particular thread that wrapped itself around his hand and pulled, gently, urging him to come closer. As it wrapped itself more and more around him, like a python around its prey, the other threads fell away painlessly and his thoughts were finally wonderfully silent.

Finn took one last look at Phasma’s body, then stumbled around to find the source of the thread. It wasn’t far.

He didn’t know how long Kylo Ren had been watching him, or whether he had discovered the thread pulling him towards the Ren by mistake or if Kylo had sent it out, expecting it to be found and followed. He just didn’t know.

Kylo’s lightsaber was at his hip, but he made no move to grab it even when Finn was less than a foot away. His eyes remained unblinking on Finn’s, and the thread around Finn’s hand tightened until it was almost like something was biting into the flesh there, locking itself in and refusing to let go.

Finn felt his fingers relax, and his weapon clattered to the ground with a clang.

Kylo held out his hand.

Finn took it.

**Author's Note:**

> And then they made out or something, because I'm invested like hell in this rarepair and I couldn't tell you why.


End file.
